by Riley Storm
“What’s wrong, boss?” she asked, following Cheryl up the stairs into the long rectangular building.
Cheryl sighed as they entered the heated room. It wasn’t tropical inside, but it took the bite off the late fall winds to the point that they could remove their jackets and sit comfortably, at least.
“We have a problem, Liz. Something that’s only just come to my attention, and that unfortunately I don’t have time to deal with in addition to everything else on my plate. So, I’m putting you in charge of it.”
“Sure. Whatever you need.” Liz wasn’t overly enthused about having more work dumped onto her plate, but at the same time, the chance to solve a problem was always a good add to the resume come review time at year end.
“Progress is slowing.”
Liz looked out of one of the little sliding windows at the skeleton of the building rising up around them. “It is? It looks like it’s going pretty fast.”
“We should be farther along. But we aren’t, because somebody is stealing from us.”
Rocking back in her chair, Liz stared for a moment. “Stealing? Like, what kind of stealing? Money?”
Cheryl shook her head, the long silvery-blonde hair going flying as some of her anger translated into the movement. “No, though I wish. Money would be easy to track, and then I could get Victor or Aaric involved on their side to figure out where it was going. No, I’m talking literally stealing things. Supplies, mainly, right out from under our noses here on site.”
“You’re joking.”
The gaze she got wasn’t one of amusement.
“You’re not joking. Like, what kind of supplies?”
“Last night, an entire truckload of lumber was taken,” Cheryl said bluntly, crossing her arms.
“I’m sorry. They took a truck’s worth of wood off site?”
“No,” Cheryl corrected. “They took the entire truck, which was filled with lumber to help frame up the inside of the building. Two weeks ago, a nearly identical amount of exterior wrap and board was taken.”
“That’s…how the heck did they take an entire truck without us noticing? Don’t we have security cameras here? Not to mention security itself?” Liz was confused. This wasn’t a tiny job site.
“Just cameras,” Cheryl admitted. “Though I’m going to be fixing that. I’ve hired two guards. They’ll help you with the investigation as well. Whatever you need them to do, just tell them. All I want you doing is trying to figure it out. Don’t get your fingers dirty, that’s what they’re for, got it?”
“Entire trucks full of stuff,” Liz said, speaking mostly to herself, still puzzled at the revelation. “Has anyone asked why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are these people stealing our stuff? They’re obviously using it to build something, right?”
“I’d say so,” Cheryl admitted. “The trucks always return the next night. Empty, but returned.”
“So, whoever this is, they’re not only freely stealing massive amounts of materials, but they’re brave, or brazen enough, to taunt us by bringing the trucks back. They can’t believe they’ll get away with that for long,” she mused, her brain starting to think. “Or they just don’t care. Like, they don’t believe themselves to have to submit to the authorities.”
“They are criminals, Liz. They tend to think that way,” Cheryl pointed out. “Anyway, listen, Chase and Peter should be back any minute now. I sent them out to walk around, to get a feel for the site, start learning its ins and outs, that sort of thing. I’ll introduce you, then I’ve got to take off, okay? I really need this done asap, before the mayor or anyone hears about it, okay?”
“Of course. We’ll put our heads together and see what we can see.” Liz hoped she sounded more confident than she actually was. This was so far outside of her wheelhouse that she really didn’t know what to do.
“Why aren’t we going to the police?” she asked belatedly.
“I did. They’ve taken the information, but since the trucks come back, they’re not really interested in missing construction materials unless they have more evidence to go on, you know?”
“Figures,” Liz muttered. “Even in Plymouth Falls, they’re too busy.”
“Basically. So, it’s on us to get them that evidence.” She leveled a finger at Liz. “Let Peter and Chase do all the work, okay? You just watch video, talk to people, that kind of thing, okay? They’re good. Chase is a former Marine, Peter is a retired cop.”
“I got it,” she said, leaning back to rub her stomach. “Trust me. I’m going to do see what I can find, but I’m not going to take chances, Cheryl. We’ll get some proof, then let the police do the actual dirty work.”
“Good. Thanks for overseeing this for me. I would, but between this, the mine and a new project, I’ve got all that I can handle.”
Liz could see the stress on Cheryl’s face, and knew that her boss wasn’t exaggerating at all. She was being torn six ways at once and looked like she was having a hard time keeping up.
“I’ll handle it, Cher,” she said with a smile. “You can trust me.”
“I know.”
There was a knock at the door, and two men entered.
Liz sized them up immediately. Chase was a few inches over six feet tall, still looking muscular, but with all the signs that he was starting to add a layer over top of it that was a little softer. Still, he had a stern, serious look to his face, accentuated by the crooked nose that had been broken a few times before and never quite set right.
Peter wasn’t at all the portly, beer-bellied former-cop-turned-private-investigator sort that she’d expected. Instead, he was an inch taller than Chase, wirier, but in a way that suggested he still worked out on the regular. He was covered in tattoos that reached from his hands up to his neck. He was bald and didn’t bother trying to hide it with a hat. Liz wouldn’t have given him a second thought if he’d appeared chewing on a barely lit cigar. It would have appeared natural for him.
They went through introductions, and Liz listened stoically as Cheryl told them the same thing she’d said to Liz.
“She’s pregnant, and she’s not to do anything besides oversee everything. You two are here for anything that might be the slightest, even remotest bit unsafe. If she’s interviewing anyone, you two are there ready to deter anything that might arise. Got it?”
The two men rumbled their assent, eyes flicking over to Liz. To her surprise, neither gave her condescending looks, but instead nodded their heads respectfully. They had their job, it seemed, and she had hers, and everyone was happy with that.
“Alright, well I’ll leave you to it,” Cheryl said, giving Liz a quick friendly embrace before pushing open the door.
Liz went to follow her, moving down the steps to watch Cheryl depart. Chase and Peter moved up on either side of her like protective guardian angels. She looked up to her left, then to her right, regarding them once more.
They were big, she decided, but not as big as Valla. Nor as muscular either.
Stop thinking about him!
She tried but it wasn’t easy. A low, thumping beat kept intruding into her head, bringing back memories of her night on the dance floor with him, when the stress of work and the grinding, gyrating movements of their bodies had made her lose all control.
“Who is this idiot?”
Blinking at Chase’s rumbled question, she focused her attention as another vehicle zipped into the construction parking lot. The thumping noise wasn’t coming from her head, she noticed, as the vehicle came to a halt nearby. It was the bass from the music.
The sporty little red coupe looked so out of place among all the dirty, dusty construction vehicles.
“Oh no,” she moaned as the door opened and a familiar figured emerged. “What is he doing here?”
Think of the devil, and he shall appear!
Valla grinned as he spotted her over the roof of his car and immediately headed her direction.
10
“Another pointless
mission,” he growled, whipping the import sports car around another corner, touching the handbrake, feeling the wheels drift.
He grinned, pulling it back into line and continuing on, ignoring the horn sound from the car on the other side. “Relax!” he called through the closed windows. “It wasn’t even close to you.”
If there was one thing Valla had taken a shining to upon awakening, it was driving. He had devoured everything he could about it and had practiced non-stop until he felt confident with it. Now he was trying more advanced precision driving techniques, and truly felt like he was beginning to get the hang of it.
It helped that it was the one thing Victor and Aaric let him do to escape their overbearing rules. With all the cars that belonged to House Draconis being tied into a central GPS system, they could simply enforce a hard limit on how far from Drakon Keep he could go before the car simply shut down.
Thankfully, there were plenty of empty, bendy roads within a few miles’ radius that allowed him to practice.
Today, however, he was back in town. Plymouth Falls. It was the first time he’d been “allowed” back out since the whole pregnancy, fighting his brother’s issue.
Up ahead, he could see the bare bones of the Outreach Center under construction, its spindly arms reaching up to the sky, metal girders welded together, waiting to be framed and turned into a building. Even as he watched, a crane lifted another beam up, where a team of waiting workers guided it to where it needed to be.
Valla wasn’t going to find anything there. He knew that. It was a pointless quest, brought about by a pair of dragons who weren’t trackers, who couldn’t find what they were looking for if it came up and bit them on the nose.
He chuckled at the thought of noses, and how broken Aaric’s had been after the fight. Then he sobered, rubbing his jaw. Valla hadn’t been able to talk for two days after; his jaw had been broken in so many places, it needed that long to properly heal. Even for a dragon, that was a long time.
Still, he was out from under the thumb of his older brothers, and he was being set free to finally begin his mission. The mission that would allow him to make the world a safer place for his child.
My child.
It was crazy to believe he was going to be a father in just a few months, and it was one thing that even a few days of quiet reflection hadn’t helped him come to terms with. He was beyond excited at the fact, but that giddy feeling was tempered by the fact that Liz wasn’t interested in having him be a part of any of it.
Valla aimlessly pulled into the parking lot, letting himself get lost in the blaring bass of the music blasting from the speakers. He would find a way to convince her to trust him. To show her that he could be the type of father she would want to be around.
As the dust settled from his abrupt entrance onto the loose dirt of the site, he noticed a trio of figures watching his approach.
Is that…?
“Well, well, well,” he chuckled to himself, doffing his seatbelt and pushing open the door. “Look who it is.”
Standing up, he couldn’t help the grin that tugged at his lips as he waved over the roof of his car at Liz.
She looked thoroughly unimpressed to see him, but Valla didn’t care. His mission to come to the site and try to find any trace of the vampires had suddenly taken on a whole new level of interest to him.
He would search around, of course, doing due diligence, but even Aaric had conceded he was unlikely to find anything. Ever since his older brother had moved the burial site of the ancient Native-American Skinwalker, the Naagloshiii, the interest in the grounds of the Outreach Center had disappeared for the vampires.
“What brings you out here?” he called, not bothering to tamp down his smile one bit.
Liz didn’t approach, staying where she was, arms crossed. “I’m in charge of things here. Why are you here?”
He thought about telling her the truth. That he was out hunting vampires, to protect the townspeople of Plymouth Falls. Then he could tell her about his heritage and that of their shared child.
“Does he have permission to be on the grounds?”
Valla blinked. “My goodness,” he said with false joviality, turning his head slightly to the side. “You speak. You’re a real human. I never would have known. I thought you were a statue.”
“Valla,” Liz said warningly. “This is Chase, and Peter.”
“You hired bodyguards?” he asked, astonished. “What for?”
“To keep her safe from unwarranted intrusions and danger,” the bald one said through a taut jaw. “Including people who go places they aren’t supposed to be.”
Valla straightened. The bald one was almost his height, though much skinnier of frame than his slightly shorter companion. Still, they could both look him in the eye, and that was giving them a false sense of strength. He could do any number of things to hurt, wound, or completely incapacitate either or both of them, before they could react to his movement. The only danger here was allowing them to think they could boss him around.
“Boys, we really don’t want to play this game,” he said in a deep voice, letting some of his dragon strength flow into it, and into his body. “Trust me. On any level, you are outclassed.”
“Can you three stop comparing dick sizes?” Liz huffed. “Chase, Peter, this is Valla. Valla Drakon.”
The mention of his last name brought understanding to both sets of eyes trained on him, and immediately, they relaxed.
“Good boys,” he said quietly, unable to resist one last barb, smiling as both of them bristled.
“Why are you here, Valla?”
“To look around. See what my family’s money is paying for,” he said. “I’ve heard about this place from Victor and Aaric but decided to come see it with my own eyes.”
“Right.”
“But now that you’re here, I was hoping we could talk.”
“We are talking.”
“I know that,” he said, exasperated. “I meant in private, without goon one and goon two hanging over your shoulder.”
“We can talk here.”
“Liz.” He tried urging her with his voice. This wasn’t really a subject he wanted the two stooges to overhear, though it didn’t really matter.
“It’s not happening, Valla. If that’s what you want. I made my decision. You aren’t changing my mind.”
“How can you make a decision when you haven’t even given me a chance!” he protested. “I only found out about it two days ago.”
“Where have you been in those two days then?” she challenged. “I haven’t heard from you at all. Nothing.”
“You told me to leave you alone,” he pointed out, declining to admit that he’d had the stuffing beat out of him by his brothers. She didn’t need to know that. Neither did the goons.
“I can’t trust you to do what’s necessary,” Liz said, crossing her arms. “To be there when I need you.”
“Yes, you can,” he insisted. “You just need to give me a chance. How can you know, when you haven’t done that, Liz? It’s impossible. You don’t know me. Maybe you should try, before you make such a hasty decision. You might find you like what I am.”
The shorter, thicker bodyguard snickered.
Before the sound had finished fading away, Valla was in his face, less than an inch separating the two of them.
“Something funny?” he growled, letting ice flow into his eyes and words.
Shaken by the speed of Valla’s movement, the man—former military most likely, if the haircut and straight-backed stance were any indicator—shook his head.
“Hey, back off pal.”
Fingers closed over Valla’s shoulder and tried to move him, but he stood rooted to the spot, glaring down goon two.
“I said—”
“Remove your fingers, before I remove them from you,” Valla snarled. “Final warning.”
“Valla, calm down,” Liz said, pushing between him and goon two, putting both hands on his chest and shoving.
Valla slowly backed up under her continued pressure, until they were a half dozen steps away from both the goons.
“I don’t like them,” he told her.
“I really don’t give a shit. They’re here to protect me while I do some work. Besides, I don’t require your approval.”
“You’re carrying my child,” he stated, as if that explained everything.
“You don’t suddenly own me just because you managed to knock me up,” she said. “And if you think you do, then you’re definitely not the sort of person I want around my child.”
Shit. He’d fucked up.
“Sorry,” he said abruptly. “You’re right. That was inappropriate.”
Judging by the look of surprise that crossed Liz’ face, it had been the right thing to say.
“I’m new to the idea of being a father too, you know,” he said softly. “I want to prove that I can do this. But…I don’t know how to go about that, since I’ve never done it before.”
Liz’s expression continued to soften.
“Please, just give me one chance,” he pleaded. “I’ll show you it wasn’t a mistake.”
He stopped speaking after that, waiting for Liz to reply. It surprised him how badly he wanted to prove to her that he wasn’t the scum she seemed to think he was. That her opinion of him mattered. That was unexpected, and bore some thinking upon, but later.
After he had an answer.
“I don’t know, Valla…”
She was wavering, and they both knew it.
Valla decided to push one last time.
11
Liz could feel her resistance waning. The sudden appearance of a genuine emotional interest from Valla had caught her off guard, blindsiding her with his heartfelt plea.
Maybe he really did want to be involved in the child’s life.
And he has a point. I don’t really know him, at all. The only thing I know is that he looks great in and out of a suit. And that his dance moves translate to other movements. Other than that, though, what do I know about him? Nothing.
If there was one thing Liz hated, it was making a decision without all the evidence, and that was something she’d done with Valla. Her own insecurities and fears based on her past warred with her need to know more, and for several long minutes she wasn’t sure which way she was going to lean.